Cities of Love
by Aphusuk
Summary: Arthur is very focused on school and getting his PhD in English . For the summer, he is offered a vacation to Europe with a bunch of other students curious about English and history. He goes, ready for a week of taking photos at museums and observing the art in churches. On the trip, he meets Alfred. Definitely the most annoying kid in the group because he never shuts up and has
1. 1

Monday, February 22nd

Arthur sat, the wooden bench of the Advanced Global Literature classroom providing him a view of the professor, three rows up. He placed the new composition notebook he had purchased two days earlier in front of him. Most people had those decorative laptops in order to type up notes, but he couldn't quite give up the way he was taught in secondary school.

Mr. Beilschmidt could have taken it upon himself to start the class talking about any number of things. Last week, he spent the entire hour just speaking off the top of his head about Jane Eyre, a novel written in the Victorian Era. Arthur held his green mechanical pencil in his hand, ready to jot down a bunch of dates or themes. The messy way the Professor grouped his ideas always left him jerked left and right throughout history, so he often had to spend evenings reorganizing what he had been told.

It was much to Arthur's surprise when he didn't start speaking of some novel or writer or historical event, but said he had an announcement. "Before we start speaking of an excerpt in John Milton's Paradise Lost, I would like to inform you all of an amazing opportunity I will be offering to some of the most dedicated students."

Arthur sat up straighter. That's me. Whispers echoed through the room. Probably speculation of who was included in that list.

Mr. Beilschmidt continued, waving in order to send the noise to a halt. "I am taking a trip this summer in order to study some of the most important cities in Europe. I will personally invite a select number of students from this class and a few other classes who show promise in fields regarding history and old English."

Arthur felt himself become progressively more disappointed as he listened. He had been to Europe a million times! He was born in London. He had seen tourist spots from the UK, Italy, Germany, Austria... the list went on! He had been hoping this wonderful opportunity would regard something that would help him in his future career endeavors. He shook his head, deciding to forget about the whole thing, before flipping to his next available page and scribbling in 'Paradise Lost- John Milton.'

The class ended after an hour and a half. Arthur's head was spinning from all the hidden meanings in the poem that he never detected, all those times reading the poem in the past. He regrouped his things, pencils and notebook in hand, and followed the line towards one of the exits.

"Mr. Kirkland." Mr. Beilschmidt's voice rang throughout the room. Eyes turned to him, but all the stares were blank. No real shock or malice in their gazes before they turned back to leaving. Everyone knew why he was being called.

Arthur walked down the aisles to get to the front of the classroom. "Professor Beilschmidt, I know why you are calling me up, however I must decline," he said with a clear British accent. "I have been to most places in Europe and my summer would best be spent taking an internship for some true resume building."

Mr. Beilschmidt looked up from his papers. He was sitting straight in his seat, making sure to project his ever-dignified expression. "I thought you might say that, Kirkland, but no matter how many times you go to these cities, you can always find a new perspective. The expenses are covered by the university. You might as well take advantage of this." He held up the permission slips for the trip. "You should think about it."

"Can we continue editing, Francis?" Arthur groaned. He was leaning against the wall of his dorm, grasping the quarter paper in his hand. In his playwriting class, he was given what had seemed to be a straightforward assignment, but nothing was ever that simple in a partner project.

Francis was nosing through his stuff on his black metal desk. "Why? It's not due until March?" He questioned in his strong French accent.

"I have three other classes. I need to get assignments done as they arise," Arthur said. Though he knew his complaints would do nothing to placate him. They were working to get their PhDs in English but sometimes he didn't know how Francis had made it that far with his tendency to put things off until panic would kick in.

"You were granted the trip to Europe?" Francis asked, when he came across the permission slips in Arthur's folder.

"Could you stop looking at my things?"

"I'm going on it, too!" Francis said, sitting in front of Arthur and his paper. "I am glad that I will have someone I know on the trip. Not that I was worried. I am excellent at making friends, but I am happy you will join me."

Arthur exhaled sharply. Finding out that Francis was equally qualified to attend did nothing but push him farther away from the prospect. He continued to look over the essay. "I don't think I'm going to go. They should choose some American who can't afford to go on a vacation to Europe."

"I've been to France a thousand times over and I'm still going on this," he said. "The most qualified people are being chosen. Plus, you can't claim you've been to every museum."

He has a point. "The papers say it's only eleven days. I could probably still make the time to take a summer job..."

Francis jumped up with joy. "Oh, my friend. You do not know how glad it makes me to hear you say that."

Friday, June 13th

The waiting room outside the plane was filled with people. Arthur and Francis had ridden an Uber together in order to save money. It costs to leave a car in the airport parking garage. It had taken what seemed like a year in order to get through security. Once they were in, they had to push past several crowds in order to find the others.

He spotted the long blond hair belonging to Mr. Beilschmidt. He sighed with relief. He wasn't sure he would be able to find anyone when the airport seems a few dozen people away from its holding capacity.

"You're late," Mr. Beilschmidt scolded the two of them when they approached the A13 doors.

"I came here with an hour to spare. I didn't think there would be this many people." Arthur said. He placed his carry-on suitcase next to the pile of luggage the University of Colorado, Boulder students had brought. For the first time, he saw all seven of the people who would be attending.

There was a tall kid with very light blond hair who nodded at him when they made eye-contact. "I am Ivan," he introduced with a thick Russian accent. He was smiling kindly, but all the other people were staying a good meter away from him.Arthur decided to keep his distance, too.

"I'm Arthur." He gestured to the person standing beside him. "And this is Francis."

He recognized Ludwig and Feliciano. They were both History majors, but he had shared a few classes with them in undergrad. They were also international students. The blond one with the bright blue eyes and slicked back hair was Ludwig from Germany. The short one with floppy brown hair was Feliciano from Italy. He often saw them around campus holding hands.

His attention turned to a short Japanese man sitting in one of the seats reading a book. The man recognized it was his turn to speak and he stood up. "I am Hondu Kiku, but I am called only Kiku. I major in geography." He held out his hand and Arthur took it.

The last person he hadn't been formally introduced to, was a younger-looking blonde spread out on the floor. He was squinting at his phone through his glasses while sipping from a soda he got from McDonalds. Probably the one in the airport. "What's your name?" Arthur asked, folding his arms. He had never seen the man around the school.

The person looked up, his eyes widening as he realized it was his turn to introduce himself. He wasn't at all taken aback by Arthur's unfriendly tone. "Oh, um, I'm sorry!" he said, a smile spreading on his face. He stood up and grabbed each Arthur and Francis' hand in turn, shaking them. "I'm Alfred!"

Arthur said nothing. He just stood in wait for the flight to start accepting the B-class customers. They soon did and he was able to follow the line in and collapse into the window seat, with Francis and Ivan sitting down in the aisle with him. He stared at the window, no desire to socialize with either of these people. He closed the shutter next to the window. Francis groaned.

"I wanted to see the take off view," he complained.

Arthur ignored him. It was only 2:00 pm but he could feel his eyes begin to droop. The whole flight would go so much faster if he were asleep.


	2. 2

The bright morning light shined through the window. The cheap hotel blinds did little to prevent it from waking up the people in the room. The plane had reached Paris at 7:00 am. Arthur was still adjusting to the new time zone, and he had hardly been awake during the process of renting cars and checking into the hotel.

But now the digital clock on his nightstand read 1:00 pm in blocky red numbers. He no longer felt the exhaustion brought on by a nine-hour flight. The spot in the bed next to him was empty. There was only an indent, showing that someone had been lying in it very recently. In the queen bed on the other side of the nightstand, Alfred was sprawled out, a slight snore exiting his lips that Arthur hadn't noticed earlier. Kiku was sitting on the edge of the bed, reading a book. He was fully dressed in his suit and his hair was done.

"Good morning," Kiku said, when he looked over and saw Arthur was awake. A blow dryer rang out from the bathroom. Francis must have taken a shower.

Arthur nodded in response. He took his clothes out of his suitcase and began to change into his professional attire: a gray jacket with the top two buttons left undone and matching pants. Mr. Beilschmidt had checked into the room down the hall and said that he would meet them at 15 after the thirteenth hour.

Francis walked out of the bathroom. "Oh, bonjour, mon ami," he greeted. He was wearing a royal blue overcoat, leaving no other clothes but his bright pink pants visible. "Did you have a nice nap?"

"It was fine." He smoothed his suit out to get rid of the fold marks.

"I hope it properly prepared you for the most beautiful city in Europe." Francis walked over to Arthur's bed and sat down.

With hardly any force, Kiku pushed Alfred's shoulder. "Mr. Alfred." There was no response. He just huffed and rolled the other way. "Alfred," he tried again, shaking him harder.

Alfred squinted as his eyes processed the light. "Alright, dude, I'm up." His voice was scruffy from not getting used in a couple of hours. He started to change, and Arthur went to the bathroom to finish brushing his teeth.

They walked down to Mr. Beilschmidt's room which said 384 in gold plastic numbers lining the door frame vertically. Alfred knocked on the door. "We're ready!" he said.

Ludwig peeked his head through the door. "Welcome," he greeted. Arthur peered through the small opening. Ivan was sitting on the pull-out bed while Feliciano was showing him an article from an Italian newspaper. He guessed Ludwig and Feliciano shared a bed, Mr. Beilschmidt had his own bed, while Ivan was demoted to the couch. I'm so glad I don't have to share my room with my professor.

Alfred laughs. "I can't believe you have to sleep with your teacher." Arthur widened his eyes when he heard his snarky comment externalized.

Ludwig's face reddens. "Just get in here," he growled.

Mr. Beilschmidt turned to the students when all seven of them sat on the pull-out bed. "I'm going to put you all into groups, just so you don't goof off." He looked at Feliciano and Alfred pointedly. "Mr. Kiku, Mr. Braginsky, Mr. Bonneyfoy, and Mr. Veneziano will be in a group together, while I will be taking Mr. Jones, Mr. Kirkland, and Ludwig."

"But Opa," Ludwig objected. "I think I would be better suited in the other group."

"Woah, Mr. Beilschmidt is your grandpa? That's interesting." Francis said.

Arthur, too, was just learning of the clear nepotism that got Ludwig and his boyfriend on the trip. "That's one word for it."

"No," Mr. Beilschmidt said, answering Ludwig's question. "You all will get to know each other on this trip, rather than just finding one person you are comfortable with and sticking to them like glue. These are your team members. You will come to appreciate them."

Arthur hopped into the blue rental sedan after Ludwig. Alfred was in the passenger's seat and Mr. Beilschmidt was in the driver's. He looked expectantly to his professor.

"Where to do you want to go?" Beilschmidt asked. When he was only met with stares, he continued. "You came on the trip for your education. You oversee the course the trip takes."

"Let's eat," Alfred said. "There are probably hundreds of delicious French restaurants here. I've never eaten at a real one."

"He said educational purposes," Arthur snapped.

"Well, as they say, 'the best way to know a culture is through their food.'"

Being chosen to come on the field trip was a lot less flattering when one person coming was the grandson of the leader and another one was an idiot. Arthur opened his mouth to retort but Ludwig cut in. "How about before we eat, we go to the art museum. It is quite well-known in Paris and has great historical significance."

"So, is that where you all would like to go?" asked Mr. Beilschmidt.

Alfred huffed in annoyance, but he didn't object.

"To the Musée de l'Orangerie we go." He backed out of his parking space and drove to the museum.

When they arrived, it was Ludwig who lead the way in, with Mr. Beilschmidt taking up the tail. The entrance itself was sculpted art. It was created in the mid-1800s and had an engraving towards the top. It was about 10 meters high and was propping the roof up. Arthur peered from the side and saw it led to an outdoor pathway to the rest of the building.

Alfred ran ahead of the group to the plastic sign. It was sitting to the side, giving historical information about when the museum was built. His sour attitude from being forced to put off his snack had disappeared without a trace. "Yo, this museum is super old."

"Get back over here! We have to pay!" Arthur called over to him.

Alfred scampered back on demand and took his debit card out of his pocket. He joined the rest of the people walking over to the line.

"I can't believe he's considered one of the most promising students in the field of history and old English." Arthur muttered under his breath.

"Hey!" Alfred said. "I'm a good student."

"Yes," Mr. Beilschmidt agreed. "He's the star in my Archeological Methods class. He may only be a sophomore, but he already surpasses some of my graduate students in some subjects."

Arthur rose an eyebrow. "You're in anthropology?"

"Yup." He said, proudly soaking in the attention he was receiving. They got to the front of the line and paid their 9 fees.

Ludwig took the front again and guided them through the museum. He had done research on his phone when they were driving there so he knew where everything was. He could also list the histories of a few things due to what he had been taught back in school. Arthur recognized some of the artists to a be the authors whose translated books he was assigned for English assignments. Alfred was beside him, skipping through the halls. He was hardly even focusing on the people behind the paintings at all.

The final room they visited was on the ground floor. They hadn't been able to visit it earlier due to the crowd, but they seemed to steadily file out, leaving their group of four alone. The completely white room appeared gentle due to the diffused light above each piece. There were long beautiful paintings on each one of the walls, each painted with a bunch of different shades of one color.

"Monet's Nymphéas." Mr. Beilschmidt said, introducing the painting. "It means water lilies. There are many more that are part of this series."

Arthur stood in awe of the pieces before him. They weren't particularly bright, but they were attractive and clearly expensive works of art. He was hardly listening when Ludwig went into the historical aspect of the paintings because he already read about that. He just sat down on the bench and admired the detail.

Mr. Beilschmidt sat beside him. "I thought you'd like these," he said in his gruff voice.

"Clearly many people like them." Arthur said. The price some of the pieces were sold at came to mind. Ludwig eventually stopped his rambling and started to observe the paintings, too. Alfred was staring hard at one particular lily pad. "But, yes, I do."

They looked at the paintings in complete silence for a few minutes. For the first time, it was there was a painting everyone liked. Arthur didn't think it didn't have any historical value, Ludwig was satisfied by the information provided on the informational plaque and the internet, and Alfred wasn't bored out of his mind.

Some rowdy tourists speaking German ran in, interrupting their moment and they had to get up. Arthur cussed under his breath at the interruption.

"I know you wanted to stay in here longer," Beilschmidt told the students. "But it's probably time we start heading to the dinner restaurant to meet up with the others." Arthur took one more glimpse of the paintings before following the group towards the exit.


	3. 3

Epicure. It was the name of the restaurant. Arthur didn't know what it meant but judging by the looks of the place, it was fancy. Not like those crazy, over-expensive restaurants where boyfriends would put diamond rings into their partner's wine and wait for them to drink it all and find it, but the place was still out of his typical price range.

When he told his mum he was going on an educational trip to France, Switzerland, and Italy where the airfare, hotel rooms, and transportation was fully paid for, she was quick to offer generous amounts of money for food and fees. He had tried to refuse, she was already paying for his tuition after all, but she insisted.

Soon after they arrived, they were sat down at their reserved table. Beilschmidt didn't need a reservation in order to get seated upon arrival but it was just a precaution that anyone who is bringing a party of eight likes to take. Arthur sat down at the end of the table next to Francis, Beilschmidt, and Ivan. Alfred, Kiku, Ludwig, and Feliciano were sitting in the seats across from him.

"What did you do in this wonderful city?" Francis asked, brushing the blond hair out of his eyes as he read his menu.

"We went to the Musée de l'Orangerie." Arthur answered. "It was very interesting. Ludwig and I learned a lot." He shot Alfred a glance. Alfred didn't look up from his menu.

"Oh, is that all?" Francis quipped. "Kiku, Feliciano, and I experienced the heart of the city. You actually have to see the landmarks to understand what I mean. Staring at a canvas is a truly a cheap way to spend your time here."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "You talk like a tourist."

Francis gasped. "My affection for this city comes from my ability to find meaning in the architecture. Think of all the great literature that has come from that. We went to the Eiffel Tower and just experienced its beauty. I remember when I was child and I would beg for my mother to drive me for an hour to go see Paris."

"So basically, you learned nothing? You just reminisced a bit."

"Well," he looked at Alfred with a little smirk. "I did relearn how macaroons taste on a nice summer day. And ice cream, but I digress."

"What?" Alfred jerked his head out of his menu. "No fair. Arthur and Ludwig are so boring. They just wanted to look at pictures." Francis smiled when he realized he won the argument of who had the better time.

"You're the one who couldn't stand still for more than five consecutive seconds." Arthur snapped at him.

"This is my first time in Europe. Maybe I wanted to see something cool and famous like the Eiffel Tower." Arthur had to admit he had a point. His first trip to France definitely started with a trip to downtown Paris.

Mr. Beilschmidt chose then to intervene. "You'll get to see plenty of famous landmarks, Alfred, and eat plenty of foreign food but I hope the memory of those water lilies will be something you will grow fond of during this experience."

"Yes, sorry, Mr. Beilschmidt." Alfred said, staring at his empty plate and avoiding eye contact.

They arrived back at the hotel. After everyone put on their nightwear, Arthur thought he would be able to get some sleep. It was 11:00pm in this new city and he would have to get up early the next day so they wouldn't be met with too much traffic on the drive to Versailles.

Alfred turned on the TV in front of both of their beds. Arthur and Kiku both squinted their eyes in surprise.

"What are you doing?!" Arthur demanded, sitting up in his bed. The only other light in the room except the television was coming from the nearby bathroom and the crack under the entrance.

"There's a TV for a reason," Alfred said. "I'm not tired."

"Well, it's hardly everyone else's fault that you drank soda at dinner."

"Just ignore it then." Arthur looked at the screen. Cars were flying in the air and made screeching sounds as they landed. He recognized the movie to be from the popular American film series, the Fast and the Furious.

"How am I supposed to ignore that?" he snapped. "Illegal street racing is hardly a quiet deal."

"I don't know. Kiku seems to do it just fine."

Arthur squinted through the dark. Sure enough, there was the even rise and fall of Kiku's small figure in the spot beside Alfred. He was sleeping.

Francis walked out of the bathroom. "What is going on here?" he said, looking at the TV. "Oh, is this one of those car movies? I don't think I've seen this one yet." He jumped in the bed with Arthur.

"Wanna watch it with me?" Alfred asked.

Arthur glared at him and Francis nodded in understanding.

"I would love to, Alfred," he said. "I believe this series is on Netflix. How about we watch it on my laptop with earbuds so Arthur here can get some much-needed sleep."

Alfred wasn't at all opposed to the compromise, so he turned the television off, leaving them in almost complete darkness.

"Thank you," Arthur said.

"No problem." Francis searched around his bag for his device. "You get in bed with Kiku and we can watch in here."

He nodded. He got up and collapsed into his bed and waited for sleep to overcome to him.

Morning came, and Arthur's handy phone alarm woke him up just in time to get ready for the day. Kiku had gotten up before him so he was already dressed and sitting on the couch. Francis and Alfred were the ones still asleep.

He stood in front of the bedframe. "Get up," he said. He wanted as much time in Versailles as possible, so it wasn't exactly ideal that those two probably stayed up until 1:00 am. Francis groaned and stretched when he woke. He hit Alfred in the face.

"Wha? stop that, dude." Alfred groaned.

"Get up," Arthur said, again. "We have to get ready."

They soon were ready to go. Alfred led the way down the hall, running towards the other door. How does he have that much energy? Arthur thought, yawning.

Before they had gotten in the car, they had split into the groups they would be exploring Versailles with. Check-in at the new hotel was at 4:00 pm so they would have to find something do to until then.

"Mr. Kiku, Mr. Veneziano, and Ludwig, you are coming with me." Mr. Beilschmidt had said before jumping into the blue rental sedan. That left Arthur with Francis, Alfred, and Ivan.

"I'll drive." Arthur said, jumping into the driver's seat of the other car. Francis sat next to him in the passenger's seat and Ivan and Alfred sat in the back. The hot sun was out and toasting the car. He flipped on the switch for the engine and air conditioning to start. He followed the GPS to get on the freeway to go to the city.

"I'll make sure you go the right way," Francis said.

"I trust my phone more, thank you." The woman's voice his phone had projected through the Bluetooth speaker.

"Suit yourself." He leaned on the center console and faced the two people in the back seat. "I'll show you guys a real good time."

Arthur looked to the prismatic rear-view mirror and caught a glimpse of Alfred grinning fondly back at Francis. Ivan just stared straight ahead, smiling the same smile he always wore.

"Put your seat belt on, Francis." Arthur muttered.


End file.
